More than the Miller's Daughter
by girlluvfangirling
Summary: A young girl named Arabella lives in the time of Prince Arthur in the land of Camelot. One day with nothing else to do on her father's mill, she goes into town led my a mysterious cat she met on the roads. This cat pulls her to danger and a daring rescue that leads her to meet Prince Arthur and his manservant Merlin. Long one-shot with potential for a story. OC


***all credit goes to the creators and writers of Merlin. I own nothing but my OC Arabella.**

**More than the Miller's Daughter **The Cat Named Arthur

Hi, my name is Arabella, and I'm going to tell you how I met the Once and Future King, Prince Arthur. Now, you're probably thinking that this will be another boring love story about a poor girl who fell in love with the prince, but they couldn't be together because he was a prince, and she was, after all, just the miller's daughter. You're going to be proven wrong if you think so then. No, this definitely was NOT a love story, but don't be upset. I'm sure this tale will definitely be an interesting one to tell. It occurred on what I thought was going to be one of the most boring days in my life.

I was in our barn where we keep all the grain that we own. "We" were my father and I, the whereabouts of my mother being a tale for another day. The grain was stored in a large container in the middle of the small barn, with only a key to open it with. It hasn't been like that the whole time though. My father had only recently put a lock on the large container since the incident with the draught a couple of months back. Of course the incident was over now, the rumor being that it was caused by the death of a mythical creature, but the after effect was still the same. The event had caused my father to realize now that, without the grain locked up, nothing would stop people from stealing from our grain storage. I know you're probably thinking that my father was a selfish man, locking up all our grain in a storage tank, with only a key to access it under the lock. But he was the most just man I knew, and when I asked him about the matter he said that, sometimes, people don't always steal for the best reasons. I now kept one of the two of our keys safely around my neck, the other around the belt loop of my father.

Now back to present day Camelot, and to the reason as to why I was standing in the middle of our grain barn with nothing to do. Somehow, with no apparent reason why, I had finished all of my chores for the day and my father graciously gave me the rest of the day off. But here I was, in the middle of the day, in my family's grain barn, with a free day off, and nothing whatsoever to do. I toddled over to a stool on the far back wall, next to the door and sat down. I sat there, in an empty barn, on an old wooden bench for a long while. My posture was slowly inching forward and my arms became limper to the point that I was hunched over in a very un-ladylike way of sitting. My arms were resting on my knees, propping up my tired head. There really was absolutely nothing to do. This was due to multiple reasons. One reason was that I had no friends to run around with. Most of the people I could imagine befriending were working children like me, and were far too busy to just be having "fun." I was usually like them, except for the rare time that I actually had a day off. Another reason that I had absolutely nothing to do was that I had no idea what I could be doing, besides working, which my father all but banned me to do, insisting that I have, as he had put it, "one decent day off to do whatever ladies your age do in the kingdom."

And that was the problem! I had no idea what young ladies like I did in the kingdom on their free days off. Just when I was about to totally and utterly give up my father came strolling into the barn, a bucket in his hands. He walked right passed me, probably thinking that I was out in the town somewhere "doing whatever girls my age do." My eyes followed him as he made his way to our grain container. He unlocked it with the key and opened it, grain beginning to spill out into the bucket below. "Papa?" I called, causing my father to jump from his bent over position. He looked at me strangely, his brown eyes widening from seeing me here.

"What are you doing here Arabella? Shouldn't you be in town, doing whatever ladies at your age do in the kingdom on a day off?" I suppressed a laugh at hearing the very quote that I had been repeating in my head since this afternoon. I got up from the stool, my back aching from sitting down for so long. As I neared Father I began to tell him what I have told you earlier, the reasons why I had not left yet. Father looked at me with a blank expression for a while after my story was told, and then began to start rummaging for something in the pocket of his trousers. Before I could ask what he was looking for he pulled out his hand, and I closed my mouth, which had been open to ask the question. In his hand were a couple of copper coins. He grabbed my hand and put them into my palm.

"Papa, please, keep your money." I said politely, trying to give the coins back to him, but he insisted that I keep them and buy something nice near the shops in town square. I quickly thanked him and left, excited to purchase something for myself.

I was almost to the square when I had the strangest feeling that someone was following me. I kept walking faster, thinking that whoever it was would get bored or lazy and stop following me. After a good while I still felt that I was being followed and dared myself to look behind. As I slowly turned my head I noticed first off that the person who was following me actually wasn't a person at all. It was a large barn cat with brown fur and stripes. To say he was large didn't mean he was fat, though his body wasn't skinny either. He seemed well fed and had long legs and a strong body frame. The cat looked up at me and gave a meow, not a little squeak of usual cats but a deep throated meow that had warmth to it. I stopped pacing and bent down, outstretching my hand for the cat to come. He looked up at me strangely, and stopped as if to ask why I was doing such a weird thing. Then, my follower began to walk again, this time in front of me and I dropped my hand uselessly to my side and stretched back up to my full height. I watched the cat walk for a little bit before he turned back towards me and watched me, as if to say that he wanted me to follow him. "Well," I thought. "I have nothing else to do really. Why not follow this strange cat into town? I am going there anyway." And then I began to follow him.

People were buzzing around in the town, trying to get everything done for the newest occasion, probably something to do with the royal family. Whether it was a royal feast, a new guest in the castle, a mythical beast on the loose, or a public execution, it was always something. Now that I've mentioned what's going on in the kingdom you're probably wondering why everyone was so afraid of magic if this was a story of King Arthur, the one who brought magic back into Camelot with the help of his trusty teacher and friend, the Great and Powerful warlock Merlin. Well, before there was a time of magic and prosperity through the kingdom, and before Arthur was King, there had to be a time without it, right? If you think yes, then you're correct. Right now the ruler was King Uther, and even though he was Arthur's father, he was like him in very few ways. Uther, well, Uther was a complicated ruler. Although he always did what he thought best for the kingdom, sometimes he wasn't always correct. Everyone was afraid that if they didn't mind their own business and obey everything the king said they'd be put to death. They were right of course; Uther reigned with such a tight grip, and because of that, he was afraid that at any moment he'd be overthrown or assassinated. See, Uther was afraid of magic, and with even the thought of magic you'd be put to death, no matter the circumstances.

The mysterious cat stopped and I stood next to him, wondering why he was going into town anyway, and why I had followed him. I looked around the town once again and saw a trail of horses in armor, with knights upon them of course, trotting towards me, and towards the castle. As I looked upon their silver breast plates and metal helmets, I realized that they were not from this kingdom, but from one of the neighboring kingdoms nearby. They wore yellow colored surcoats, as oppose to our red. Another difference was that instead of our golden dragon as their crest, it was a large green snake with pointed fangs and red eyes. As I stared upon the knights a cold shiver went down my spine at seeing the animal. It did not look as comforting, or brave as our golden dragon, but rather evil. As a knight passed me I dared to look into his eyes. He sneered at me and continued on riding his horse, his dirty face and browning teeth only making me more nervous at their presence. I had never seen knights like these in Camelot before, knights were supposed to be brave and honorable, not dirty and malevolent. My gaze dropped and I looked down at where I had last seen the cat, only to find that he was no longer there.

My eyes widened and I began searching for him, only to find that he was a ways away from me, in the middle of the path of the visiting knights. The dumb cat was just sitting there, only a few feet away from the rest of the knights and their large horses. Even a mentally impaired animal would know to get out of the way, but he just sat there patiently looking ahead, as if to wait for the horse to come and trample him! I began shouting and yelling at the cat to move, but he just wouldn't.

As the horse got closer and closer, my heart rate got faster and faster. If I didn't do something now the cat would surely be trampled, and that was not something I wanted to see. The knight was all too busy talking to one of the other knights behind him to notice. Making a very, very rash decision, I ran at the cat and the gigantic horse was now about to trample us both. My eyes widened as I lay on the dirty street floor, mud covering my dress and face. The knight finally turned around and noticed me, his smile turning into a glare when he noticed that I was in his way. The horse seemed to notice too and got on his back legs, neighing with fright as he jostled around his rider, almost making the man fall off. I put my arm up in front of my face and turned my head, me being trampled was not something I wanted to see play out. But then it was quiet, not even the crowd around us made a noise. I opened my eyes and looked forward.

The foreign knight was now off of his horse, standing over me with a nasty expression on his face. His jaw was set and I could see the nerve in his forehead jerk and twist in a fiery rage. He walked closer and closer to me, his footfalls slow and menacing as he reached me. Soon he was hovering directly above me, the stench of ale on his rotten breath. He looked dirty and unshaved, his green eyes were flickering with anger and his stance was rigid- his hands clenched by his sides. Before he even moved I knew exactly what he was going to do. He lifted his hand slowly, in a sinister way, like a cat who was about to strike another. I closed my eyes, preparing myself mentally for the strike, but this time I didn't put up my arm, for I knew that if I did it would only make things worse. As you see, I was a woman, and a woman in the middle ages was not supposed to speak out or defend herself, especially against the a man.

Now, you're probably wondering where Prince Arthur Pendragon came into play in this story; don't worry, he'll show up soon enough. "Why, you insolent girl! Don't you know? I am a knight of Ghent and you dare step in my way? I'll have your head for this!" My body went cold, as I thought of my future in those few measly seconds. I imagined myself being hit by this ruthless knight, thrown into the dungeon, and beheaded on the accusation of treason, or some nonsense like that. I waited and waited for what seemed like eternity for this knight to take out his wrath on me, but the blow never came. I opened my eyes to see one of the most out of place sights that I'd probably ever seen. There, in front of me, was none other than Arthur Pendragon himself, crouched in front of me, looking me into the eyes, probably to see if I was crazy or not. His expression was almost completely blank, with only a hint of worry in his blue eyes. I gazed blankly back at him, my mouth slightly ajar in an attempt to gain back my breath. Prince Arthur looked at me for a second longer before turning his head to look at the crowd that had gathered behind us. I looked at the prince for a little longer before looking at the direction his head was pointed. There behind him was the knight, a cut on his cheek bone from where he must have been hit… "By Prince Arthur?" I wondered.

The knight stared angrily back at me, his fists once again by his sides. Prince Arthur dismissed the crowd before standing up and turning completely around to look at the knight. That's when I was finally able to notice the prince's features. He was a decently tall man, with blond hair and a slightly pointed nose, full lips and high cheek bones. I took the only moment I thought I would ever have to memorize everything about his appearance. I mean, when was the next time you'd ever be able to see the Crown Prince of Camelot, especially so close up? I'd actually never seen him before, only heard of stories and rumors. He was rather handsome and I now understood what all the girls in Camelot had been making the fuss about. The way he walked, and the way his head was held high with honor and probably a bit of over self confidence just screamed prince. He was also wearing a bit of knights clothing. Of course, not as much armor as the knights in yellow had been wearing. Prince Arthur only wore a suit of chain mail, a red shirt beneath it, and a bit of armor around one of his shoulders and chest. His shoulders were wide and looked strong, but of course they were. He was the prince after all and the prince had to be strong and able to be ready to fight at any moment. My shoulders were wide and strong too, but only for the reason that I had to carry pounds and pounds of grain and flour back and forth from my house to the market to be sold, not to mention doing my daily house chores. No, Prince Arthur was strong so he could fight. My attention was caught when I heard them speaking about me. "But, sire, the girl was in the way! She should have been watching where she was going." I heard the knight say, his voice shockingly high for a man of his stature. It sounded like the voice of a young boy, and I tried to remain from snickering at him. I looked back towards Prince Arthur, who looked rather aggravated with the knight's presence.

"That is still no way for a knight to treat someone, even if it is a common girl covered in rags with no brains to know not to lie in front of a moving horse." Prince Arthur said and I ground my teeth together. If there was anything I hated, it was being treated as if I was just the miller's idiot daughter. Now, do not get me wrong my friend, I love what I do and I love my father, and for that I would change nothing. The only thing that bothers me is when people look at my ruff exterior and just see the miller's poor daughter. People are too busy to take apart the layers to see that I am much more than the miller's daughter and much more worthwhile. The knight gave a laugh and looked at Prince Arthur. Prince Arthur remained quiet, his hands on his hips, staring daggers at the knight who'd almost run me over. The knight from Ghent's smile slowly fell and he asked the prince if he was serious.

"Oh, I'm quite serious, and just because you and the knights of your kingdom are guests of Camelot, it does not mean that me or my father will not hesitate to force you to leave if we see something like this happen again. DO I make myself clear?" Prince Arthur asked, the end of his words slowly turning into a deep snarl. The Ghent knight protested again before Prince Arthur bluntly interrupted him, this time repeated his question again slowly and dull, his voice dripping with revulsion. "Yes sire," the knight gave one last look towards me before getting back on his horse and ridding off. I remained looking at where the knight had been, flabbergasted at what had just transferred. One minute I was in the town, the next I'm on the road with mud covering my dress and two men fighting over me. Well, I wouldn't say "over me," more like, fighting over what to do with me. After gathering my thoughts I looked over towards Prince Arthur. He turned around and dropped his hands to his sides, his mouth slightly ajar.

Arthur, excuse me, PRINCE Arthur sauntered over towards me and outstretched his hand for me to take. I looked at it for a while and then back at the prince. From what I had heard this was very uncharacteristic of him. I noticed that his eyes were shining and bright, as if asking if I'd take his hand. After a while of thought I reached out my hand daintily, his strong hand quickly grabbing mine, big over little. As he helped me up I noticed how soft his hand was compared to mine, but when I was straightened up and balanced he let go. I quickly missed the warmth of his hand but put it in the back of my mind for something to think over later. "So, why were you in the middle of the street in front of a trail of horses?" The future king asked, raising me from the dizzy fog that was my thoughts.

"Um, there was a cat," I said unintelligently and Prince Arthur looked at me strangely, making me quickly want to elaborate on my statement. "See, there was a cat that I had been following, which I really have no idea why I was following, but at first I thought that someone was following me into town but it was actually the cat and I didn't know why someone would be following me anyway, see my father gave me the day off because I had finished all my chores for the day but I had nothing to do…" I rambled on and on until Prince Arthur put up a hand, silencing me. Did I mention that I tend to ramble when I'm nervous?

"So, what I've gathered," the prince said, looking up, "Is that you followed a strange cat into town with no apparent reason, on a day that your father gave you to have free of chores?" I nodded. "And that when you saw that this cat was in the way of six knights on horses you decided to… charge ahead." Prince Arthur said, raising the last sentence as same sort of question. I nodded numbly. Now that I was looking back on my actions it seemed like a pretty dumb plan. "You dominantly are one of the strangest girls I've met in this kingdom, charging in to protect a strange cat; that really is something." A light laugh came from the prince, making a little smile rise up on my pink lips. "You're almost as clumsy as Merlin. Speaking of which, where is that servant." My smile dropped at how loosely the prince was able to call this Merlin by the name of "that servant." He began calling his name loudly. "Merlin, you idiot, where are you?" He repeated, until I saw a boy around my age run clumsily towards us, a bundle of clothes and supplies in his hands. The boy had raven hair and large rounded ears that seemed to stick out straight from his head. Of course, we weren't all perfect in our appearances; I seemed to think that my skin was too pale for my light hair and my nose too round.

Merlin looked from the prince to me, giving a small nod of the head and a goofy, yet sincere smile. I returned it with a nod of my own and then returned my glance back at Prince Arthur, who was looking at me, really for the first time since he'd talked to the knight of Ghent. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped a little when he saw me and I furrowed my brow, instantly looking over myself to see why the prince would look at me like that. My dress was slightly ripped and covered in caked mud and flour, the flour from my earlier chores this morning. Besides my dirty appearance I really couldn't place why Prince Arthur would be staring at me like I just got hurt. Not a second after that thought I felt a sharp pain from my head. After lifting my hand to where the source of the pain was, I quickly removed it. A crimson liquid was on my fingertips from where I had touched my forehead. "Blood," I thought as I looked back at Arthur with a look between shock and understanding. Two utterly different things, the shock from realizing I had been wounded and the understanding upon realizing why Arthur had been looking at me like that.

He quickly ordered Merlin away, telling him to come back with a damp towel to clean the wound on my forehead. Merlin glanced at me once before hurrying away to do as the prince had asked. Arthur looked at me before grabbing my arm lightly and towing me over to a nearby bench. My head was starting to feel a little foggy and I was glad that Arthur had been holding my arm to steady me. As we sat down Arthur let go of my arm and I quickly felt that feeling that I'd felt earlier of missing the warmth his hands brought. Again I put the thought in the back of my mind and sat down to look aimlessly to the people and things around me. My eyes tried desperately to look anywhere but at Arthur. When had I starting calling him Arthur and not putting the title Prince before it anyway? As my eyes roamed I heard Arthur clear his throat, calling me to look back at him. "So, what's your name?" He asked, again catching me off guard with the personal question.

"Arabella, my lord," I said, bowing my head slightly, considering with these circumstances that if I got up and curtsied I'd most likely fall over, even moving my head a little made me feel like I was swaying. Arthur hopefully understood that and began to look back ahead towards the crowd. "So," he said, after a moment's silence. "Arabella, the Great Cat Rescuer." He said in a great voice, swooping his hands around in a manner that made me want to laugh, which it did. I laughed for only a few seconds though before I caught myself, wondering what the prince would think of me laughing at him. I shut my mouth and clamped my hand over it, a gasp erupting from my lips. I looked over towards the prince, only to see that he had begun to laugh as well. My laugh roared back up, and we laughed together. After the laugh was over and shared, and we caught back our breath, I asked a question that had been bugging me. "If I may have the permission to ask, sire: Why were you in the village anyway? If there are knights visiting from another kingdom, shouldn't you be in the castle, preparing for a feast?" Arthur glanced at me briefly, before his eyes moved back to the people moving around us. At hearing his silence I began to feel that I had over-stepped at asking this question. "I'm sorry sire, I did not mean to over-step. I was merely curious, they do say that curiosity killed the cat," I said, trying to make omens of the issue. Arthur slowly looked back to me, his eyes instantly meeting mine.

"You've heard that King Uther is ill?" I nodded, my eyes still locked with Arthur's. I had, in fact, heard that the king had become sick suddenly. Even though it had only happened this morning, news had travelled fast throughout the kingdom. Everyone was scared that the king would be too ill to rule the kingdom, and that made the people fearful. But after meeting Arthur face to face during this incident, I believed that the kingdom would be in good hands. Arthur's eyes left mine and he told me that he, his servant Merlin, and many of the other knights were on their way to investigate more to solve the reason for this swift sickness. The court physician had not been able to find the cause for the illness, and many believed it had been the cause of sorcery. By any chance the knights, the prince, and his servant would be able to find the cure for the king. I nodded, forgetting that Arthur was no longer facing me. I offered my reassurance before feeling something warm slide down my forehead, and leak slightly into my eyebrow before flowing once more down the side of my face.

I raised my hand up and touched my temple, the numbing feeling making me forget the large gash on my forehead. I pulled my hand away and again saw blood on my fingertips. As I looked down at my bloodied hands another wave of nausea hit me, causing me to wince and bow my head. I was trying to fight off the need to lie down and grab my head. Arthur noticed this and looked back at me, a look of concern crossing his features. "Where is _Merlin_ with that damp cloth?" The prince said angrily, probably getting fed up with having to sit so long with a commoner instead of on his quest to find a cure for his father. I frowned and Arthur looked back at me again. "I'm just worried that if he doesn't hurry you'll pass out, and that's not going to be something I want to handle right now." It was as if he had read my thought. Luckily, I didn't have to think about what that statement meant as Merlin came bounding around the corner, a damp rag in one of his hands.

Before I could think about getting up Arthur put his arm left arm out, preventing me from getting up. His arm grazed my stomach and a rush of the combination of nervousness, comfort and warmth spread through me and I settled back in my chair. This time I was grateful when he removed his arm and got up, allowing Merlin to sit down where he had been. Now the servant boy could easily see my face, giving an equal level for him to see my gash. I looked into his dark blue eyes, trying to lose myself in them so I wouldn't feel the sharp striking pain from my cranium. He started with the side of my face where the blood was sliding down, making sure to clear any signs of blood. As the cold cloth started to ease the pain I became more aware of my previously blurry surroundings. I noticed the two horses next to us, their saddles packed with supplies, they were well fed and their coats and tails were well groomed. I realized then that they were palace horses, Arthur inattentively petting the one that I guessed was his. I looked away from the horses and prince, back to the raven haired boy who was cleaning my face silently. His eyes did not meet mine as Arthur's had, and he was still focused on the chore at hand. "Thank you, Merlin," I said, trying to speak as clearly as I could, which was quite difficult when remembering the wound on my forehead and how close Merlin was sitting next to me.

You're probably thinking I was already growing romantic feelings for these young men, but truly I didn't. The way my body sent tremors and a warm feeling through my body when Arthur touched me, even if only slightly and for a short while must mean I had feelings for the prince. Or maybe the way I felt calm when Merlin was helping me or near me, or the happiness I felt when smiling at Merlin was proof that I felt for _him, _but you have to remember something. I wasn't used to being so close to men besides my father. After all, I didn't have any friends, but at most mere associates, and I spent most of my life at the farm, helping with my father's work. Whatever I felt, at that moment, it had only been the feeling of experiencing something new- human interaction. "You welcome-"

"Arabella," I said, answering Merlin's subtle question for my name. He caught me out of my thoughts and smiled at me, his eyes finally reaching my chestnut and honey colored ones, Although Papa had told me that I took after my mother in looks, I did know that I shared his eye color. My chestnut eyes with specks of honey coloring were one of my favorite features, but they were the only feature that had me looking related to my father. My father had dark colored skin and hair, while I was the image of light, with blonde, almost platinum hair and a very pale complexion. Merlin's eyes locked on to mine, before he looked back at my bloody wound. I winced when he finally touched the wound with the cloth, and I jerked and grabbed his wrist unconsciously. Merlin mumbled an apology and continued to dab at the wound, my hand letting go of his wrist and slowly making it back down to my side. Merlin finished and stood up, offering me a hand which I accepted.

Now next to him, Arthur walked over to us, his horse next to him by the reins. "Better?" The prince merely asked me, his eyes moving to look at my forehead. The bleeding had fortunately stopped and I now only felt a little dizzy due to the loss of blood. Merlin cleaning up the wound with the cold cloth had definitely helped. I nodded my head and gave a slight curtsy, thanking the two for their hospitality and wishing them good fortune on their journey. They nodded and before I was able to walk away from them a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I swayed a little and fell slightly into Arthur, his chain mail feeling cool against my hot skin. Heat rose to my cheeks in embarrassment and the two young men grabbed on to my arms, Merlin on the left and Arthur the right.

"I'm sorry your majesty- Merlin. I'm just a bit dizzy." I apologized quaintly, ignoring the throbbing that was now returning to my head. At least the bleeding had stopped. I felt bad for postponing their quest to make the king better. Although Arthur had tried not to show it and had still tried to be cordial, I could tell that he was getting fed up with this stop along their journey. If they didn't hurry the king could get desperately more ill and might not make a recovery. Arthur sighed and looked back at me.

"It's okay. I'm just glad I was able to rescue you from that knight of Ghent before you were trampled and worse came to you," Arthur said and I nodded, trying to ignore the shooting pain in my head. As I looked down, feeling bad for the trouble and inconvenience I caused, I heard Merlin mumble something strange under his breath. I thought that I had seen the swiftest flash of gold on Merlin's sea blue eyes in my peripheral vision but by the time I looked up at him all I saw were two blue orbs looking down on me. The two boys probably were a good six inches taller than me. Suddenly the pain in my head was completely gone; not even the feeling of nausea was left. I thanked God and a sudden happiness spread throughout my body. A smile appeared on my lips and I noticed that Merlin had one as well, as if knowing the reason why I suddenly felt much better.

Although I wasn't sure if Arthur noticed or not, my eyes drifted to his and I smiled at him, telling him that I would be fine to make it home safely. He seemed hesitant but smiled back and leaped onto his horse, Merlin following afterwards to do the same. Now above my head on their horses Arthur looked to me. "Don't go running after anymore strange cats Arabella or I might have to rescue you again." He said nonchalantly, in typical prince manner. I smiled and nodded, bidding him farewell as he rode off in the opposite direction. Merlin looked down at me and smiled another of his silly smiles, his teeth showing and cheek bones protruding. That smile was catchy and I soon found a smile reaching my lips, mirroring his. This Merlin wasn't such a bad fellow, quite attractive and I wouldn't mind meeting him and Arthur again. "Merlin!" The prince shouted, pulling the two of us out of our reverie. Our heads jerked towards him, he was now a good length away from us, riding on his chestnut colored horse in a trot towards the forest.

Merlin looked back at me before smiling again. "Goodbye Arabella, I hope we see you again, with any luck under better circumstances." Then the boy rode off, trying to catch back up with his master. Before he was out of earshot I returned his goodbye with, "Goodbye Merlin, I look forward to seeing your warm smile again and I know that you have a great future ahead of you. You're definitely more than just a servant." Although Merlin had his back to me I had a feeling that he had a large smile planted on his lips, and I'm sure Arthur was teasing him about it when I noticed the crown prince look at Merlin and then back at me. They were now almost gone from my sight and I made my way back home, totally forgetting about my original plan to buy something nice in the town.

I was walking down the dirt road, halfway home when I felt the same feeling I had felt earlier, that someone was following me. Instead of making the same mistake I had made earlier today, I looked instantly back and noticed the same brown cat following again behind me. I stopped and looked down on him, my hands on his hips. "You know, it would have been nicer if you had showed up earlier when I was talking to the prince. That way I wouldn't seem as much as a crazy person as I already am." I dropped my hands from my hips when a short and chaste meow came from the cat, as if to tell me to hush. I waited for the large cat to make his way towards me and he sure did take his time too, but I was patient and stood there with my arms folded. Once he was close to me I scooped him up, earning me a loud chirp from the cat. "Yeah, yeah, I know you don't like it, but if we don't take haste my father's going to start to worry, and I don't like that." You probably think me strange for talking to an animal, but I didn't in the slightest. It felt as if I didn't talk to him he'd get angry and wonder why words were no longer coming out of my mouth, even if he didn't know what they meant.

His soft stripped brown fur brushed up against my exposed neck. He was quite big and to the average person heavy, but I didn't mind. After lifting tons of weight my whole life, this was nothing. When I held him he almost covered my waistline to the tip of my chin. Like I said, he was a VERY big cat. As we made our way down the road to my home I couldn't have felt the most at ease in my life. It seemed that just this afternoon I had felt alone with no friends, and now I had met Prince Arthur, and his servant- which I could imagine forming a new friendship with, and found a strange cat. Having someone to walk home with really helped, granted it was a cat, but it's better than nothing. Today hadn't turned out as expected, but I liked this better than my usual schedule.

The cat and I finally made our way to the farm I grew up on. Somehow managing to open the gate with one hand, the cat in my other, we made it to my father and I's yard. Our house was barely outside the kingdom and my father and I didn't own much. We were content. Papa didn't mind, where we lived, even if we were living in the smallest, most run-down shack in the town. As long as I was happy Papa was happy and I felt the same. As long as Papa was happy I was happy. We had been lucky enough to keep this house. My father was the only miller in Camelot and, in spite of everything, people always needed someone to grind their grains and bake their bread. If you travelled a little more you'd see a watermill by the barn. The grass was as green as ever, due to the prominent rain we've been having lately and I could already tell there were going to be flowers blooming soon in our gardens. There was also a small stream/pond that was in our land by the garden and when it was time, there would be butterwort, speedwell, blue-eyed grass, and many more flowers adorning the land and in the garden. Most flowers were blue, after all that was Mom's favorite color and this was her garden. She had grown up in the smallest house you could think of in the busiest part of the kingdom. This was her dream house. It's too bad she died before she could see it finished.

I made my way along the coble-stoned pathway, the bundle of cat still in my arms. Looking upon our Wattle and Daub house a wave of relief and happiness washed over me. The cottage was made of white stone, with the curved and tall roof made of a combination of woven twigs and backed mud. There were only three small rooms. One room was used for multiple things. It was our washroom and kitchen, but also where we talked and had our meals. Another was the room my father slept in and the last was an addition to the house, where I slept. Before entering the house I looked behind me. The sun was beginning to set and cast beautiful colors of pink, orange, and purple across the sky. It looked like an artist had painted it. Mother had said that God was the greatest artist ever to come into existence, and she hadn't been more correct. I looked back in-front of me and pushed open the front door, a loud squeak coming from its hinges.

"Papa," I said, stepping inside and making sure not to drop the very large and now getting heavy cat in my arms. Papa had been bent over the table across from the door working on something before he looked over at me. He stood up to his full height and walked over to me, his height not much taller than mine. He was more burly and short than tall and lanky, and whenever I saw him I could only think of a big teddy bear with Papa's large hands and chestnut eyes and dark brown hair. Papa was kind and was almost always there for me when I needed it, or if anyone needed help for that matter. I think that's one of the reasons why Mom had fallen head over heels in-love with him, you know, after she accepted someone could love her too. I got visions of her every once and a while, but I wasn't old enough to have clear memories and Papa was always there to fill me in. In many ways I hoped I was like her, that I had her kind heart and soft exterior, but most of all that I had her sense of adventure. I laughed happily at the thought and looked over to Papa, who was now looking at the cat in my arms.

I re-positioned the cat so that he was facing my father, instead of looking behind my back. Papa's face contorted so that his brows were knitted together, giving wrinkles around his eyes. I could tell that he was thinking about reaching out and petting the cat, but ultimately decided against it when the creature gave him a cynical glance before turning back around and settling in the crook of my neck. "I found him following me to the square Papa and then he followed me home today…" I said, delving into my story about early today.

The sun had already set over Camelot by the time I'd finished with my story and Papa waited until I was completely done with my story to comment. I could tell he tried very hard to hold back the questions and comments until I was done, for it seemed his brows got closer and closer together and his eyes narrowed more and more. Sometimes his expression changed. His expression was angry when I'd told him about the Ghent knight and I could tell he refrained from saying things like, "I never liked those knights from Ghent," or "how dare they lay a hand on you." But then he seemed happy when I told him about meeting Arthur and Merlin and surprised and proud when I told him about Arthur's rescue.

I folded my hands on-top of one another and leaned back in my chair after I'd finished, waiting for Papa's analysis on the whole event. After telling Papa I had a story to tell about today, we had sat down at the table and had dinner. My father began to speak, "You said that you had a head wound?" I nodded and Papa gave a weird look. Why was he looking at me like that? Did he think I was lying? Surely he saw the big gaping wound on my forehead. "I don't see one," my eyes narrowed and I reached up and put my right hand to my forehead. Huh, he was right; there wasn't a wound on my forehead. But I knew I hadn't thought the whole thing up, there'd been witnesses. Merlin and Arthur, surely they'd be able to back me up on the matter.

I turned my head and looked at our fire. The flames whipping and contorting with the sudden gusts of wind flowing down the chimney and into the fireplace. The orange and red flames casted a powerful and warm glow to our surroundings, they were the same gold color that had been in Merlin's eyes when he said those strange words behind his breath. But I was confused. There was no way- no, that couldn't be possible. There was no possibility that Merlin could have healed me unless… unless he… unless he used magic. The muscles in my forehead released and I looked blankly at the fire, my brown eyes reflecting its glow. Father cleared his throat and I looked back at him. "Well, sounds like you had quite an adventure today. Are you not glad that I gave you the day off?" I was very glad that Papa had given me the day off now, the only problem was now I dearly wanted to go ask Merlin if he was a warlock. Of course, if any of you knew anything about magic you would know that you couldn't just go up to someone and ask if they had magic. They'd most certainly deny it, especially in a kingdom where magic was banned, and most certainly if that magical person barely knew you.

Why he wouldn't want to tell me he had magic wasn't that hard to figure out. If word got out, he'd be put to death for the work of sorcery. The law was meant to protect the kingdom, but often times the wrong people got killed. I knew for a fact that if someone was powerful enough (or evil enough) they could easily get out of the grasp of the guards and flee. Even though I had just met Merlin, I could tell that he was good by the way he acted and the gleam in his eyes when he smiled. Not only could I tell that he was good, but that he was powerful, and also that he would use his magic for nothing but what he thought was right. I'd have to become close friends with Merlin to be able to ask him, which I didn't mind. I could imagine being close friends with him anyway.

I smiled and looked up at Papa, now set on a mission to become friends with one of the greatest warlocks of probably all time. "So what were you working on when I came inside Papa?" I smiled, deciding to change the confusing subject of my wound to something light and easy. A smile grazed his features and he looked over his shoulder, pulling something out from under the table. There in his palm was a small wooden cat, with a long tail curled up in the air and pointed ears. It was made out of simple wood and was about the size of my palm. Papa handed it over to me and I passed it between both of my hands, looking closer at its detail. The wood was smooth and light weight. I looked over at Papa and a gleam reached my eyes. "You're pretty good at this. Ever think about giving up milling and taking up the art of wood crafting?"

A deep hearty chuckle arouse from Papa, filling the air with a warmth and happiness that only his laugh could bring. He ran one of his large rough hands into his hair and smiled. "It's weird, a little while after you left I had the sudden urge to make it. I dismissed the other two of our workers; got the best chunk of wood I could find and began twiddling with it." I smiled; how weird it was that Papa had had the sudden urge to work on a wooden cat. As far as I knew Papa had never picked up a piece of wood and fiddle in his life. That's when a thought and idea occurred to me. "Papa, maybe it was a sign. Maybe I was meant to meet this strange cat and let him follow me home. And maybe I was meant to keep him as an addition to our family." I clasped my hands together and smiled as bright as I could, almost begging Papa to let me keep the cat. There was silence, with only the sound of crackling wood and the wind outside (it got cold and windy at night) for tune. Papa looked over to the cat, which was asleep by the fireplace. We had given him sardines earlier for dinner, which (after he was done of course) caused him to take a complete bath and then curl up comfortably in the rug closest to the fire.

Papa thought for a second before looking back at me and a smile broke out over his tanned face. "I thought we had already decided to keep him?" A large and full smile broke out upon my pale face, exposing all of my white teeth. I hastily got up from the table, making the chair I was sitting on almost get knocked over as I rushed to Papa, who was on the opposite side of the table. I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and gave him the tightest hug I could manage. He chuckled before returning the backwards hug and then patted my arm, signaling me to release my grip. I hurried back to my chair, repositioned it and sat back. "But you have to take care of him. Make sure he's fed, watched over, and you have to watch him carefully to make sure he's well and doesn't get sick." My smile was too broad and my mind was already going over scenarios where I would spend my time with my new pet and what joyous things we would do. Like every girl or boy, no matter their age, with the chance to get a new pet, you'd agree to anything. I hastily agreed to the deal Papa had proposed, that way the animal could become mine as soon as possible.

Papa smiled again before looking back at my pet, which now had his ears perked up and eyes trained on us. He was awake now from hearing the big ruckus of my squealing and Papa's jovial laughter at our new deal. "If he's going to be part of the family now, well, he must have a name." I looked down from the table at the cat, thinking over what my father had said. He needs a name. My chin was positioned between my thumb and pointer finger and my elbow was propped on our wooden table. Looking from the table down to the cat, I thought. The fire cast a beautiful glow across his features, casting a shadow below his high cheek bones, making them look even more dominant. He held his head with pride and his shoulders were square and looked strong. His head was slightly lighter than the rest of his body and I noticed that it was almost golden, with a puff of white fur under his mouth. It was a rather handsome cat and I remembered the way that he'd followed behind and in-front of me, with its head held high with pride and honor. I smiled and looked to my father, now knowing exactly what I wanted to name the creature. "Arthur," I said simply, another dazzling smile reaching my pink lips.

"Named after the prince?" Papa asked, astonished. I merely nodded. The cat reminded me of him and I thought he looked just like him. Hopefully Arthur will never find out that I named my cat after him, but now I know how foolish that thought had been. If Merlin was to be my friend it was almost certain I'd meet Arthur more than on the average occasion. Merlin was Arthur's servant after all, and by the way Arthur the cat had followed me today, there'd be no doubt the prince would meet him at least once. "Two Arthurs in my life," I thought. "What an adventure that will be." I was about to laugh before Papa interrupted me.

"Just like Loretta, always taking home strays." If someone could wear the smile I wore then, it would probably be the biggest smile humanly possible. I was happy that Mom had been the same way I was and brought home strays that needed homes, like I did today. It was another similarity that I shared with my dearly missed and perplexing mother. "If only I could see her now," I whispered under my breath and my smile quickly turned into one of joy and happiness to one of remorse and sadness. I would give anything to see her at that moment, to see her warm smile and her graceful features. Papa had always said she reminded him of a doe, with her big eyes and her small round nose. I wondered what she would have said to me if she were here. Would she say that she was happy and she missed me? Would she say that even though she hadn't been here to raise me, she was proud of the woman I had become? I felt a prickle behind my eyes and quickly rubbed in-between them, trying to prevent the tears that were threatening to spill over. Papa must have noticed this and reached his hands over to put them over mine. His callused thumbs rubbed my palm in comforting circles, his almost brown skin in complete contrast to my cream colored complexion.

I looked up from my hands to Papa's eyes, I was almost positive that my said smile mirrored his. Although my mother had only been alive for a few years after my birth, I had felt as if I had known her all my life. Papa had wanted to make sure I knew her that way, even though I was positive that it caused him more pain to talk about her than it did for me to listen. I still saw in Papa's eyes the love he cared for her. His brown eyes were glossy and looked as if the brown and honey color was made out of glass. I was positive that my own eyes (which were a complete replica of his) looked exactly the same at the moment, almost spilling with tears. My father gruffly cleared his voice and he rose from the table. "Go to bed honey. We both have to get up early tomorrow and set to work, since we missed this day's progress of work." I nodded, reached in my skirt pocket and put the unused coins he had given me earlier on the table. I picked up the wooden cat figurine and pushed out my chair, it sent an almost inaudible screech across the dirt floor of our house. Arthur got up from the rug and followed my retreating figure to my bedroom, leaving Papa in our living courters, staring at the flames in our fireplace, deep in his thoughts.

Once in my courters, I undressed and did the best I could with what I had at the moment to get the dirt and grime of off my body. Luckily not much had gotten on my skin because of my long and modest dress, but the dress would most likely have to be thrown out. "Pity really," I said to myself, now fully clothed in my sleep wear, and holding up my dress so that I could see it well under the candle light. "This had been one of my favorite dresses. It didn't make my hair and skin tone look as pale as they really are." Okay, so I was a bit self conscious about my appearance, what female wasn't, especially at this age? I thought I looked like a ghost.

I climbed into my bed and snuggled down into the covers. It felt good to lie down once for today and just relax. Even though I hadn't worked much of today (besides the morning) at the mill, I couldn't remember the last time my legs and back had ached so mush. Not only was today physically exhausting, but emotionally demanding as well. Not only had I been scared to death on my way to town by thinking I was being followed by a crazy person, but I had also almost been trampled to death by a Ghent horse, back handed by its rider, covered in dirt, gotten a head wound right above my brow (which is where you usually bleed the most) and getting as frightened as a someone who hears a scream in the dead of night when all of these events happened. I settled deeper in my covers and pulled them up past my shoulders, to my earlobes.

Turning my head to look out the window I saw bright stars from the country night, quickly setting on the quest to find the Northern Star. Papa always said that when I felt lost, whether it was emotionally or physically, to look to the Northern Star for comfort and guidance. Papa said that when he was younger, he had been afraid of the dark at night. He would wake up every night, fearing that when he went to his parents' room they would be gone. Grandfather and Grandmother would constantly find him at their door, the door handle clasped in his tiny hands, his red cheeks streaked with hot tears. After many months of this Papa said that his mother and father told him that if the Northern Star was still in the sky, his family would always be okay. Even if Grandmother and Grandfather weren't alive or well, the star would always show that God was always there to take care of His children. When I had had the same difficulty as Papa in my early years, he had told me the same, and now I no longer had those nightmares.

A small smile grazed my cheeks and my chestnut eyes gleamed from the bright stars above. I had been truly blessed today. I had met two possible friends, found a new pet cat named Arthur, gotten a wood carving from Papa, and all on a day I thought was going to be the most boring in my entire lifetime. Even if, like Merlin had said, they weren't in the best circumstances, I was glad this day had happened. Hopefully I would see Arthur and Merlin again, under… _better _circumstances. I felt a slight shift in my mattress and looked down to see Arthur settle in the crook behind my legs and fall asleep, a small purr escaping his throat and a smile on his lips. That's when I knew that I would see Merlin and the prince again. And to think, it was all thanks to The Cat Named Arthur…

**The End…**

For now


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